


When I Think of You

by ParasiticEye



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Internal Monologue, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:42:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24043063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParasiticEye/pseuds/ParasiticEye
Summary: Eddie contemplates his unrequited feelings for Waylon while doing research.
Relationships: Eddie Gluskin/Waylon Park, Lisa Park/Waylon Park
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	When I Think of You

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this quickly at 12am, idk why im feeling so angsty so I projected it a lot on Eddie. Here's to my fellow people who never experienced mutual love *cheers*

He rubbed his eyes, too dry from staring at the screen all day long. Eddie may have been lucky that classes were suspended today, but he wasn’t so lucky because he had to spend it all on research. It wasn’t really different from sitting in class, the inevitable was just delayed. Dennis kept bothering him with unnecessary texts of encouragement, _‘Just a few more paragraphs and you’re done,’ ‘Don’t worry, I’m not finished yet either,’ ‘No rush’ ‘You can do it!’_ He was kind to him without a doubt, but Eddie sometimes suspected it was because Dennis feared him. Not that it mattered much, at least he was a loyal companion. Dennis even went as far as sending him pictures of his darling. He was flustered, heart beating fast, butterflies fluttering in his stomach as he gazed at Waylon’s pictures. His smile was gorgeous, so bright he could light up a whole room.

Eddie turned off his phone, knowing full well that it’s distracting him from completing his research. God, this thing was due tomorrow and chapter two wasn’t even halfway, never mind that the whole paper hasn’t been copyread yet. He stretched out his arms and back before settling his fingers on the keyboard.

Back to work.

Few minutes in, his eyes were drooping and the words he’s typing were mixing together into incoherent alphabet. He didn’t realize he was lightly dozing off and staring mindlessly at the screen for a few good minutes until he was awoken by the loud ringing of his phone.

Miles was calling, he grumbled, “What’s it now?” His words slurred. _“Hope you enjoyed your beauty rest. Come on, where’s chapter two? We have to pass first thing in the morning!”_ Miles said furiously. Eddie would understand of course. He was the leader of their group, and essentially their messiah. Miles had a way with words, he could write a legitimate argumentative paper on why dean Jeremy Blaire should be overthrown and the whole fucking school would start a revolt. One thing that has been keeping him from doing so was the fact that he needed to finish college, and the fact that their science professor Trager rivalled him in the gift of words. Trager and the dean were rather close, and beefing with either two could expel him.

Eddie respected him, but damn, if he wasn’t so tired and pissed right now, he would’ve answered politely. “I told you I can take care of it! It’s not even one o’ clock--”

_“It’s fucking one thirty in the morning, Taylor, and you’ve got thirty minutes to finish that and three hours of sleep, if you even want to. I’m done rewriting everyone’s elementary-level essays, so put your Eddie Allan Poe of a tongue to use or whatever, fuck! Just finish it by two!”_

The call ended abruptly. Eddie was awake again, brought back to the never ending task he delayed so much from completing. It was so easy to think that he’d complete it in three hours or so, but once he had settled down his coffee and sat in front of his laptop, suddenly the thought was impossible. Eddie rubbed his temples as his head started to ache. Too much caffeine, too much sleep lost unfairly.

He turned off his laptop for a moment, decided to fresh his mind. A few stretching and cracking of bones--he refused to lay down--he opened his windows, letting the cool midnight air in. His phone vibrated, showing a new notification from Dennis.

And also a string of capitalized letter texts from Miles, but he’s going to pretend he didn’t see that.

Dennis had sent a photo, when he clicked on it–it was a picture of Waylon. Darling. He was smiling in his school uniform, seated on the desk. Dennis texted, _“Took a pic of him yesterday, for you.”_ Eddie smiled, “Thanks, I needed this.”

_“I knew you would. Sending in some moreeeee,”_ Eddie grinned ridiculously, his heart beating once more but this time it wasn’t caffeine or lack of sleep. It was because of Waylon: the only man known to have successfully capture his heart and made him feel emotions again for years. By far, he was his longest crush, he could even claim that he was his first and true love. But no, perhaps true love was too farfetched; they’re still too young afterall. But his love hasn’t wavered throughout the years, how could he doubt that?

Eddie bid goodnight to Dennis, thanking him one last time. He was grateful that he had at least one friend he could count on. He wondered if Waylon was his friend too, could he count on him as well? How far would he go for him and he to him? Eddie did try to befriend with him, that one time when Miles suspiciously decided to help him with his “marriage problems.” They talked very little, I mean, who would expect a weirdo with social problems and a fairly sane nerd to talk normally? Waylon had agreed to help him with his math assignment, Eddie was awestruck and dumbfounded at his insanely godlike skills in mathematics. The math wizard ended up answering his sheet by the end of his lecturing, and embarrassingly, all Eddie could remember of their lecture was how soft his hands were when they briefly touched with his, guiding him throughout the nonsensical formula. All Eddie had learned was how his eyes were a beautiful mix of green and hazel, and how his passion for academics was shining through them genuinely, and how, god, how in love he was when he was just there with him alone in the room. Closed off from the rest of the school, the staff and the students, the whole world.

Even for just a few moments, Waylon had spared a few hours for Eddie, who was the center of his attention and time. And it’s an amazing experience to him, so amazing that the feeling never left him, and whenever he revisits his memory of that night, he could feel love at its most as fresh as it were the first time experienced. From then on, he thought, _‘Here’s a man I soon would look back and wonder what if?’_

Eddie wasn’t dumb. He loved the feeling of loving, but he feared it all the same. The one thing that brings the most comfort will bring the most pain when tables turn–that’s what he feared.

What he feared was unfortunately the truth, as he had been expecting.

Waylon Park, his darling, longest crush, and the man who brought life back to him, was in love with one of the most beautiful girls in the campus: Lisa. Eddie wasn’t dumb, but he was playing dumb. He pretended for long that he hadn’t noticed the way Waylon was staring too much at her, longingly. His eyes never lied. His voice never stuttered but only did when she was talking to him.

But Eddie was beyond the point of turning blind eye now. He couldn’t avoid the pang of hurt any longer, it was easier to just accept that Waylon is just another one of those guys he’d reflect back on and say, ‘ _What if?’_

_What if I spent more time with you?_

_What if, at that night at your room, I was brave enough to say that I loved you for years?_

_What if my fears and doubts were wrong, and what if--_

“What if you loved me too?”

It was barely a whisper, now taken away by the night breeze off to somewhere it cannot be heard. He repeated to himself so _many_ times that he accepted the fact Waylon could never be his, and that he would eventually move on. Someday, he’ll look back and laugh this all off–it was a comforting thought. But he’s here in the present, not the future, and it hurts more than he thinks he could laugh it off. Eddie knows the regret that will haunt him, the pain that will wake him up every night by just saying _two_ _fucking words_ :

What if?

And god, it hurts him to think of Waylon as much as he loved him. The very inspiration, the very courage that drove him to work and live with a smile was the very thing that brought him unwanted tears and anguish. He thinks and thinks of him when not around, and loses the ability to do so when around him. His mind was torturing him. His mind was only filled of Waylon.

It all started to sound funny to him. It was like a cycle: he falls in love, he goes through denial, then when he’s defeated at the feet of Cupid, the person he loves walks away with a stranger better than him, hand-in-hand. Then he’ll love again, with someone new. He'll love again, and again, and again–waiting for one of them to return the love. But not one of them ever did. Waylon never did, and yet on his side of the coin, Lisa gets to revel in mutual love. How lucky both of them were. While here was Eddie, aware he was blindly chasing after a cloud he’d initially mistaken as dream love. Here was Eddie, pathetically keeping his photos because it was the only thing he could come close as having Waylon. And he knew someday, he would delete these photos, then he would be left with nothing.

No one, nothing, alone.

What if years later it turned out that no one had come to love him? Or that Waylon was the last person he loved, as he failed to love anyone other than him? No one can say what can happen in the future, no one can guarantee that there was a huge possibility that Eddie could die alone. Live and die alone: no legacy, no trace, as if he existed and no one noticed. Would Waylon spare a few hours for his funeral as he did that night he helped him with the math assignment? Would Waylon even remember him? Was he worthy of his remembrance?

Eddie knew he was loved. His friends and his mother were the only people who dared to love him, and he loved them as equally. And yet his selfish heart yearned for more. Was it selfish of him to ask for more love? Didn’t people say to learn to be contented with what you have? If so, he was. Maybe if Waylon sees through his true selfishness, he would be disgusted as well. Maybe it would be the reason he won’t attend his funeral.

Eddie shook off his head when more and more irrational thoughts begin to form. He wiped the tears (that he hadn't known he cried) off his cheeks. A man shouldn’t cry. A man should do his work. But what is a man without a woman? For whom and what is his work for, then?

He sips from his mug, now filled with cold coffee, and opened the laptop. He could only wonder if Waylon was finished with his research, considering the genius he is, he might have finished earlier than him and his group.

But what if Waylon was also awake at this very hour, sipping his coffee, sifting through papers just as Eddie was?

Here, in the moment, in the present, someplace different: Waylon was with him.


End file.
